


Friendly Neighborhood HellRaiser

by The_Renegade



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adoption, All Time Favorites, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Dont Except No Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fights, Fire Powers, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, High School, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I mean theres fights, Ice Powers, Intimidating Family Members, Love, Love Confessions, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Social Anxiety, Sokovia Accords, Spiders, Theres lots of it, This sort of follows canon, Triggers, Violence, War, Young Love, does it?, webs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:22:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Renegade/pseuds/The_Renegade
Summary: Libby was neverreallyjust the girl next door. It's hard to be, when your adoptive parent is an Avenger. That makes things all together more complicated. Not to mention, when your adoptive dad, Mr Steve Rogers himself, goes MIA following the events of the Sokovia Accords, who else is to take her in besides Tony Stark, everyone's favourite, rich philanthropist? So to say Libby lived a normal life would be a gross understatement. And all of that nonsense doesn't make going to public high school any easier.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey folks I accidently hit post before finishing writing the opening chapter whoops. please wait for more

Libby stared at her reflection for a moment. It was just another day of school. Just another day at the place she considered her own personal hell. Not that was all that much different from the life of any other highschooler, if she was being honest. But what was a newly turned 18 year old to do? Her dad would have her head if she ever quit school. The guy watching over her now...her second adoptive father (that was another, much longer story) would probably kick her out of his new, sweet penthouse. Which wasn't exactly ideal either. She didn't want to be _homeless_. Adjusting the band on her black leggings, before fixing her red, cashmere sweater. It had been a gift from her adoptive father, Steve Rogers (that's right folks, you heard it here first) two Christmases ago. Before all this nonsense with the Sokovia Accords went down. Back when they were a family. Back when he wasn't missing. Back when she wasn't living under the watchful eye of Tony Stark. 

The young blonde gave one last look at the mirror when Friday spoke. "Miss Rogers, your ride to school is waiting downstairs. How long should I tell him?" Her voice was always warm, if slightly robotic. It was what she imagined a mother's tone to be like. Not that she'd ever know.

So Libby sighed, pulling her wavy, ash blonde hair into a loose ponytail. "Tell Happy I'll be there in two minutes. Heading to the elevator now." Today was just going to be another day. Another day of being Captain America's adopted kid. It was nice being Libby Rogers for a while, it really was. After the Battle of New York, everyone really seemed to like having her around. Maybe it was only because of who her dad was, but, it was better than being ostracized. Which was what she was now. After everything that happened, her father and Tony fighting, the whole word watching, watching as her family fell apart and her dad was put on the most wanted list. It wasn't easy to say the least.

She grabbed her black backpack and slipped into her boots, before making her way out of her room and towards the elevator. "How's the forecast today, Friday?" she asked, as the metal shoot dropped her down, down, down. 

"Cold, Miss Rogers. Currently 42 degrees. Rain is expected later today. Would you like an umbrella?" the voice automatically chimed back without missing a beat.

"No, that's ok," Libby replied, adjusting the straps on her bag. She liked the rain, even though it turned her long hair into a giant tangled mess. "Tell Tony I'll be back later than usual, I'm going to do some studying after school. I won't be long." She had a history project coming up and wanted to do some work away from her new, hightech home. Ever since Tony had taken her in, school had been ten times easier, what with a computer that would literally answer all her questions. But that wasn't how Libby liked doing things. She liked working stuff out on her own. She wanted her report to be 100% Libby Rogers built. 

"Will do. Enjoy your day at school, Miss Rogers," Friday said as Libby exited the building and walked to the curb, where Happy Hogan was waiting, black car parked and purring, back door opened for her. The tinted windows were there as usual, only the best bullet proof Stark money could buy. Or invent. 

"Good morning, Miss Rogers," Happy greeted in his thickly accented voice. You could tell this guy was raised out east just buy hearing him speak. 

"Happy, I told you to call me Libby. Seriously," the blonde replied with a roll of her green eyes. "Just because Tony is your boss doesn't mean I need any special treatment." 

"Yea, yea, I know Libby. I'm sorry, let's just get in and get you on your way," he replied, helping her into the car with a small grin, before slamming the door tightly. It would be a quick ride to school, even with traffic. 

Libby relaxed into the car seat, pulling up her phone and browsing the news. Only thing remotely interesting was how the local hero (besides either of her fathers) Spiderman had stopped yet another bank robbery. The guy hadn't been in the news for long, but he sure was making a name for himself. It must have been nice, being able to do some good in the world. That was one thing Libby always struggled with. Being around all these amazing people, yet never being able to do anything quite so powerful, quite so good. Her father had done so much good before he had gone into hiding. She missed him so much. 

She shut her phone and shoved it into her bag, staring out the window instead, jaw clenched as she rode out the wave of sadness washing over her. She didn't even noticed Happy studying her in the rear-view mirror. He hated seeing her this way, the way she always got when she was thinking about her family. He knew she put up a strong front, but that didn't make it any easier on the poor kid. Regardless of what she said, he knew better. Things could not have been as easy at school as she was always saying. He'd have to drop a note to Mr. Stark later, tell him to follow up or something. Tony would figure something out, he always did. 

"Alright kiddo, here we are," Happy announced, pulling up infront of Midtown School of Science and Technology. "Just give me a ring when you're ready for a ride home, or whatever you need, alright?" He said, opening the door for her, even though she always asked him not to. It made people stare, she always protested. But he did it regardless, every day. It was chivalrous. And kind of his job. 

"Alright Happy, see ya," Libby replied with a small wave as she slipped her headphones over both ears, drowning out everything else as she put Imagine Dragons on Spotify. 

She walked lazily into the school, slipping between crowds and bystanders, not really paying attention. No one waved to her anyways, no one stopped to say hello. No one ever did, not since half of the Avengers had become Public Enemies. Not since the FBI pulled her out of her science lab to interrogate her on the location of Steve Rogers. No one wanted to be friends with the girl whose dad turned out to be the bad guy. Which he didn't, not really. He just didn't want a set of laws determining when he could or couldn't save someone's life. Libby understood it, she got it so well. That was part of the reason she loved her father so much, he was so effortlessly good. So right. He was Captain America for a reason, even if he wasn't really following that moniker anymore. He was still the best in her eyes, anyways. Always had been since he'd rescued her from another year of foster home living. That was why she spent half of her free time now researching him, trying to find the latest sightings of Steve Rogers, man on the run. He had to be out there somewhere. She would find him, eventually. 

She was so lost in thought that she didn't see the locker door open right in front of her, knocking her flat to the floor. She practically saw stars as she rubbed her forehead, knowing there would probably be a bump there later.

"Peter, what the hell?" She heard a low voice say. "How can you have these great senses and not even notice a person right in front of you?"

"Ned shh," another male voice replied. As Libby blinked, looking up, and found herself staring into a set of caramel brown eyes, and a pale hand extending down towards her. "Hey, I'm, um, really sorry. That was completely my fault. Wasn't paying attention." 

"You don't say," Libby replied dryly, but she accepted his hand, letting him pull her up from the floor. He did it with almost surprising ease. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. He had cropped brown hair, almost the same colour as his eyes, and wore a baggy shirt that almost hid how broad his shoulders were. 

"You're, um, Libby, right? Libby Rogers?" He asked again, scratching the back of his head. 

"Holy shit, Peter, you just knocked _Captain America's_ daughter to the ground!" his friend elbowed the guy, presumably Peter, in the ribs. "Tony Stark is probably going to string you up from the top of his building using whatever that super strong stuff you-"

The guy covered his friend's mouth with his hand, glaring at him. "We don't talk about that here," he whispered, but Libby still heard him. After he removed his hand, he turned back to the blonde girl. "Seriously, Libby, I'm so sorry. Let me make it up to you somehow. Have lunch with us or something?"

Libby could practically feel her heart leap out of her chest. Someone wanted to have lunch with her? That hadn't happened in months. "Um sure," she replied, trying to sound as cool as possible about it, even though inside she was ridiculously excited. Embarrassingly so. Who got this excited about lunch anyways?? 

"Ok, cool, cool," The guy said again, adjusting the backpack that hung lazily over one of his shoulders. "I'll see you around then," he said, starting to walk off with his friend. 

"Wait," she said suddenly, stopping him in his tracks. He swiveled around, piercing her with those brown eyes again. She knew them, from somewhere. Where had he seen him before? Besides school, obviously. Something about him seemed too familiar. "I never got your name," she said, cautiously. 

He grinned back at her, walking backwards down the hall as he replied back, "The name's Peter. Peter Parker."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story does tie somewhat into other fics I've written with other OCs! So if there's any confusion about certain references, feel free to check some of my other Marvel fics (if you want, you totally don't have to).

The school day buzzed by as Libby jotted down notes in class, of lectures she was only really half listening to. Her mind was more focused on lunch. While it seemed silly, having someone to eat with was nice. It might keep some of the bombardment of negative comments about her father away. 

While Libby generally found her very strong willed, able to ignore the bullies at school (after all, they were just other kids who wanted any negative attention drawn off themselves. She understood that, even if it was pretty shitty), that didnt mean she enjoyed the constant berating. She hated hearing kids talk smack about her dad. He was just standing up for what he thought was right. He was just being a hero, the one thing people had always wanted him to be. Needed him to be. It seemed people were forgetting her dad literally punched nazi's in the face. 

Between science and gym class, Tony called her. She denied the phone call. It wasn't that she didnt want to talk to him, she just didnt want to talk to him _right now_. She loved Mr Stark, she really did. He was kind, and generous to take her in when she had no where else to go. He provided for her, made sure all her wants were covered. He even put money away for her college. "Thats what friends _do_ , Libby," he would always say, with a roll of his big eyes, using that tone that insinuated she was being moronic, even though he never really meant it. 

She would just call him later. He probably wanted to know when she was going to be home or something. It wouldn't be that late, she thought to herself. Sometimes the man in the iron suit was a tad overprotective. Libby called him out on it all the time, and he never acknowledged it. She just needed to study. Needed alone time to work, without his computer's watchful eye.

So she ghosted through the halls as if she were invisible, as invisible as everyone around her treated her. She kind of liked it, sometimes. The way she could move about, unseen, unheard, almost all of the time. No one notices the nobody. Or at least that's what Libby liked to think.

It was too bad she wasn't a nobody, not the way she thought. Libby Rogers was a _somebody_ , and it wasn't just because of her last name. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And then the time came, that period bell rang and the class of kids made their exodus into the halls of the highschool. It was like swimming inside a group of fish, all flowing in the same direction, having the same goal. Food.

Libby's stomach growled in response and she thought of the food inside her bag. A tomato and mozzarella ciabatta sandwich with lemon and pesto. Her mouth practically watered. One of the upsides of living with Tony Stark was the ungodly amount of heavenly foods. She never went hungry, never had to worry about going hungry, not like she had at the orphanage. 

As she slipped quietly into the lunch room, she scanned the table, heart thudding loudly in her chest. The people around her could probably hear it, and would roll their eyes at what a loser she was. It made her stomach flip uncomfortably. 

And then she saw him. The boy from earlier, Peter. She still couldn't quite place why he seemed so familiar. Did she run into him somewhere else? Did his family attend some of Tony's parties? No. That wasnt right. But it was something. She knew him from somewhere, and she was going to get to the bottom of things.

Almost as if he sensed her, the brunette kid looked up right at her, piercing her with those chocolate eyes again. She blanched, her entire body feeling as if she were frozen in place. But then, swallowing hard, she weaved her way through the table to sit across from Peter and Ned. Her feet practically drew her there, out of her own damn accord, which wasn't something Libby particularly appreciated of two limbs attached to her own body.

She plunked herself lazily onto the bench across from the other two boys, pulling her lunch pail out of her bag and unzipping the container, smelling the delicious contents inside.

"Hey Libby, glad you could join us!" Peter said suddenly, out of nowhere, and somewhat awkwardly. When she looked up, he had this eager smile on his face, one she couldn't help but return. It was that sort of infectious smile, the kind that made you happy simply by being in the presence of its happy glow. She wanted to smile, to show him his smile made her smile. And it made her feel like the biggest idiot. Her smile made his cheeks brighten from pale to pink. "How was your school day?" His words slipped out nervously, like a small fish.

His friend, Ned, elbowed him in the gut. "She doesn't want to talk about _school_ Peter, are you dumb?" The young guy looked over at Libby, grinning. "So, know any Avengers??" he asked enthusiastically. 

Libby stared at him blinking, for a second, about to speak before Peter interjected. "Dude! Her Dad literally is one. And now she lives with Mr. Stark. Of course she knows the Avengers." he glanced back over at Libby and rolled his eyes apologetically. 

Libby shrugged, "I mean, I visit Clint and his wife, Harper, on weekends sometimes," she replied casually, as if this were the most normal thing ever.

"Oh yea?" Ned asked, eyes widened. He thought Hawkeye and BlackCat were placed on house arrest or something, but decided not to press the subject. Instead, he wiggled his eyebrows and asked, "Ever met Spiderman? I've heard he's pretty cool." 

Libby shook her head, "No, I haven't. He's sorta new to this whole thing, right? Is he even really an Avenger yet?" She thought of how the webslinger had helped her classmates on a class trip a few weeks back, though she wasn't entirely sure what had happened. She wasn't a part of the club that had gone to D.C. 

"No, he's not, but he could if he wanted to be," Peter interjected quickly, before shoving a piece of sandwich into his mouth to keep himself quiet. Libby noticed his face had gone unusually pale for some reason.

Biting into her own sandwich, she let her chewing be the signal of the end of this particular conversation. When she finished swallowing her bite, she looked up at Peter and narrowed her eyes. "So," she began, "Why do you call Tony 'Mr. Stark'? Seems a bit formal."

"Oh, erm, yea," Peter said nervously, cracking his knuckles quietly under the table. "I just, uh, do a sort of work-study thing for him. It's kind of like a part time job, I guess." 

Libby's eyes widened in surprise. She wondered if that's where she knew the guy from. Maybe she had seen him as she walked through the halls of her new home, Tony's building, the Avengers old HQ before everything went to shit. "So you do like..tech stuff?" she asked, taking another bite of her sandwich.

"Peter's really smart," Ned said, nodding enthusiastically once more. "Like reaaaally smart."

"That's cool," Libby said with a grin, though something in the pit of her stomach was telling her she had never run into him at her own home before. She would know that, and she had the feeling Peter would have said something to her if he ever saw her while he was working for Tony. "Wish I was smart enough to understand half of the stuff Tony was working on sometimes," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Most of it goes way over my head." 

"I could help you study sometime, if you want that is, of course," Peter said quickly, before taking a fast gulp of water from his glass. "Not that you need it, of course. I'm sure you're brilliant." 

Libby rolled her eyes, but smiled coyly. Was he asking her to study study? Or to 'study'? Like a date study? There was only one way to actually find out, and then maybe she could pin down just where she knew this kid from. "Sure, that'd be super nice of you, Peter," she smiled over at him, hoping her smile was just as infectious as his was. She couldn't help but notice the slight pink in his cheeks. She quickly finished her meal and scooped up her things. "Maybe Saturday? If you can fit me in between your busy schedule of working for 'Mr. Stark'," she teased. 

"Um yea, Saturday works!" Peter said, surprised she was even taking him up on the offer. "I can be at Mr. Stark's place at like...3:00?" 

She nodded in response, smiling at him, then over at Ned. "Well, thanks for letting me butt in on your lunch time. Let's do it again soon," and then with a spin of her heel, she was gone, slipping out the doors of the lunch room before the bell rang, wanting to get out of there before the floodgates opened, before the people in that room who _did_ enjoy bringing up what a criminal her father really was caught sight of her. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the school day went by in the blink of an eye, and soon Libby found herself sitting on the cool metal bleachers in front of the track, pouring through her history book for information on her project. She was turning through pages when her eyes caught sight of a familiar face that stopped her short. She held the page between her forefinger and thumb, staring down at the black and white image. It was her dad, Steve Rogers, not looking at the camera, but he was grinning as he walked down a dirt pathway through the forest, looking over at one of his fellow soldiers. She traced the image slowly, before glancing down at the caption.

 _Steve 'Captain America' Rogers, with the Howling Commandos_ the crisp ink read. She squinted down at the image, a pit growing in her stomach. How had she never noticed the photo before? Why had she never even checked? Of course her father would be in here. As she held that page in her hands, she felt tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen him, and he had never even tried to reach out to her. Why even adopt a kid if you didn't really want them? 

Suddenly, the book was jerked from her lap, the page tearing in her hands, ripping the photo of her dad in two. Some guys erupted into laughter. 

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" came the sound of a deep voice. Libby knew who it was, even before she looked up. Chase Quinton. Football player, golden boy, blonde hair and blue eyes, the whole 'American dream' bullshit that books always tell you about. The simple sound of his voice was like nails on a chalkboard for her. "Looks like someone was reading about their long lost daddy. How's being the daughter of a felon, Rogers?" he spat out at the girl he stood in front of. 

"Shouldn't you be at practice?" Libby shot back, eyeing his football uniform. Chase narrowed his eyes at her. He hadn't always been such a dick towards her, not when she first started attending this school. Back when everyone thought her dad was an Idol, Chase had always been hanging around her, trying to soak up the fame, offering to buy her lunch all the time. She always politely declined, even though she knew Chase was the type of guy who didn't always take no for an answer. 

"We're on water break," Chase said hotily, thumbing back towards the other players behind him. "And by the look of those tears in your eyes, we definitely found our water source. I'd be pretty upset too, if my dad turned out to be such a major loser. I mean honestly, such an idiot." Chase droned on and on. It was his usual drill. Bitch about her dad, then he'd leave. 

But Libby had never been very good at taking a beating lying down. Her dad had always taught her to stand up for whats right. "He's not, though," she replied back dryly. "My dad is a hero. He's an Avenger. He's saved the world, multiple times. You should think yourself lucky that he even exists." 

"Mmmm," Chase paused, as if he were actually considering it. "Yea, no. That's not something I'll ever think. Hell, I'm surprised he's even allowed in our school books anymore." He looked down at the textbook he had pulled from her hands and grabbed another page with the fallen hero's image on it. "Here, let's just tear this one out to." 

"Stop it!" Libby shouted as he pulled out another page, ripping it in half. She saw the face of her father being ripped in half and she felt herself grow hot, angry, and hot. Hot like she was going to explode. "Give me my shit back and get out of my face!" She shouted angrily, standing up from where she stood, getting ready to lunge at him. 

"Where's the fun in that?" Chase teased back, shredding another page about the history of Captain America. "All these words are fucking lies anyways, your dad's no hero. He's nothing but a common, petty criminal who doesn't even love you. Where is he now, huh? He left you behind pretty damn quick." 

Libby could feel the tears hit her cheeks, then heard something that sounded like a sizzle. Her hands clenched tightly into fists, and she could feel the heat rolling off her palms. What was happening? She was so angry. Why was this happening to her? Why couldn't they just leave her alone?

Suddenly, something white shot past the corner of her eye and the book yanked out of Chase's hand, disappearing into thin air. Libby looked up, bewildered. Out of nowhere, a red object shot out of the sky, swooping at her and a crazy fast speed. Libby held up her hands and braced for impact, though she still had no idea what the hell was happening. 

Next thing she knew, she was floating.

No, not floating. Being carried. Sliding through the air with ease. As she opened her eyes, she looked up into the mask of Spiderman himself. 

Looks like she would have to take back everything she had said at lunch.

"Hey there," a voice came from behind the mask. "Thought we should blow that Popsicle stand. No need to hang around those guys any more. But, uh, hey, are you always this warm?" The local hero asked as they swung through the sky, moving from building to building on some crazy strong string of web. "Like you're really hot. Like hurting to hold hot. We're uh. We're going to make a pit stop."

Libby looked up at the mask, squinting. That voice....that voice, she knew it. But she couldn't think about that now, because he was right. Her skin felt as if she were on fire. As they came to rest on top of a tall skyscraper, Spiderman set her down on the concrete. Libby looked at her hands, shaking. She felt as if fire ants were chasing across her skin. And it hurt. She squeezed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists. Suddenly, from behind her, came a loud explosion. A generator, which sat just feet behind them on the roof, burst into flames, exploding and propelling metal and black billowing smoke into the air. 

"Woahhhhhh...woah, woah, woah," Spiderman said, backing up slowly, pressing a hand to his ear and muttering something. But even though he was trying to be quiet, be discrete, Libby caught his words anyways. "Mr. Stark, I have a bit of a situation here."

Libby raised her eyes, looking up at him through the fiery pain, looking at the hero's height, taking in his stance, his shape, his words. Her voice broke as she opened her mouth and quietly called out his name. 

"Peter?"


	3. Chapter 3

As Libby’s single word echoed across the space between the two, the silence felt like pressure on Libby’s shoulders. At least the silence felt cool in comparison to the heat that was boiling her insides. She felt like a pot sitting on a hot stove, slowing building up, hurling steam into the air. 

“Ummmmmm” Spiderman finally said, breaking the space between them wide open. “I have no idea who you’re talking about honestly but like, um, someone else is on the way to make sure you’re safe.” He wanted to take a step towards her, but the heat rippling off her was coming in waves at him over and over and over. 

“I know it’s you, Peter, I’m not stupid,” Libby said, rolling her eyes and trying to stand up. It was hard, this sickness in her, this heat, it was building up and made her want to curl in on herself, clench everything as small as possible, contain it. “I don’t need taking care of, I’m _fine_ ,” she said pointedly, but as she spoke, a bird flapping lazily by burst into flames. Literally, into fucking fire. Libby stared at the falling, flaming carcass as it spiraled down past them, past the edge of her vision. She stared down at her hands and then back up at Peter. “I swear, Peter, that wasn’t me. I promise, it’s, it’s not.” Her hands were shaking. What was wrong with her?

Her breaths started to come quick and shallow. She had come to know this feeling too well. The feeling of panic curling in on her gut, of a leach sucking her soul out, stealing all of her calm away. Panic attack. The words she had heard from the physiologist Tony had taken her to see shortly after they had started. Shortly after her dad had disappeared. Everything felt right, compressed and her skin felt twitchy, itchy, like her whole body wanted to bolt. 

She tried to slow down her own breaths, keep herself calm, breathing in deeply through her nose, holding, and exhaling through her mouth, but her body refused to comply. Her breaths came short and shallow, not providing nearly enough oxygen. She knew this was the start of a long, downhill fall. She needed to get herself calmed down. 

Peter sighed and yanked off his mask, shoving it into the pocket of his suit. He ran his hand back through his shaggy brown hair, brow furrowing with concern. “Hey, Libby, hey. It’s ok. Mr Stark will be here really soon, he’s going to sort this whole thing out.” 

Libby squeezed her eyes shut, letting her head fall into her hands. She knew the rocking would come next. God, she felt so embarrassed. Why did this have to happen in front of someon she was just making friends with?? She didn’t even have time to process that he was the friendly neighborhood superhero. She hated that anyone ever saw her this vulnerable, this exposed. Her anxiety...it was like a leach that clung onto every limb of her body. It was cruel and unforgiving, and it didn’t care who saw. “Please don’t, I don’t want him here right now,” she managed to squeeze the words out. She didn’t want him seeing her, his newly fostered daughter, in such a state. Crying, panicking, and apparently almost literally on fire. She could still feel the heat rolling off her in waves. 

And then suddenly, she felt his hand on her back, rubbing in slow, even circles. “Libby, it’s okay. I’m here. We’re going to figure out exactly what’s going on and it’s all going to be okay,” Peter said, surprisingly confidently. “What can I do to help you feel better?”

His words surprised her, so much so that she raised her head, turning to look at him, blinking and wide eyed. No one ever asked her what she needed to feel better. They only ever told her what to do, told her how she could feel better. The last person who really listened was her dad, and, well... no one knew where he was anymore. 

“Can you just squeeze my hand for a second?” She asked quietly. “The pressure feels good, helps me feel grounded,” she felt silly saying it out loud and she was sure her cheeks were bright red. 

“Of course,” Peter grinned, “anything to help a friend.” He held out one suit-covered hand. Libby looked down at the intricate lacing of blues, red, and thin lines of black webbing, then placed her hand into his. He squeezed her hand tighly, but not so tight that it hurt. She took a deep breath, letting a small bubble of calm wash over her. 

“I’m sorry, they just... they made me so upset,” Libby sighed, “They’re such dicks, for no reason. Before my dad disappeared they were all about being my best friend. Just after the fame, I guess.” She shrugged. Her world still felt like it was on fire. She wondered if he was ok, if whatever this heat coming off her was affecting him. 

“They’re just a bunch of meatheads, don’t let them get to you,” Peter sighed, squeezing her hand rhythmically, in the beat to one of his favourite songs. Her palm was radiating warmth, but it didn’t hurt. It was just different. And he didn’t mind taking a little heat. “I met your dad, you know. He was really nice, even when we were fighting. Really stand up guy.” 

“You met him?” Libby said, looking over at him with a small smile. “I guess that makes sense.... since apparently you’re Freaking Spiderman!” She elbowed him lightly in the ribs, feeling a little more of the stress she was holding in ease out of her body. 

“Shh, it’s supposed to be a secret,” he winked at her. “Can’t really having the whole world know, you know? That’s Mr Stark’s thing. I prefer the low profile.” 

Libby thought this over for a moment, before nodding. It made sense, not everyone lived in a giant defense tower with their name thrown up for the whole world to see. 

“So, is the first time this has happened?” Peter asked, gesturing with his free hand at the general space around her, indicating the heat radiating off her, the things she had made explode.

Libby shook her head just slightly, just enough to indicate no, she had never in her life experienced this. 

Peter couldn’t help but smiling at her, “hey, it’s pretty damn cool though! I mean, you’re kind of like, literally glowing right now,” he nodded down at her arm. 

Libby looked down as her mouth dropped open, astonished to discover he was right. Her skin was glowing a faint yellow and gold, as if there was sunlight circulating right beneath the lower layer of her skin. “Yea no, that’s never ever happened,” she replied slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Well, we’re going to figure out exactly what’s happening together,” Peter said to her earnestly, “That’s what friends are for.” _Friends_. It felt so good to hear someone say that word towards her. She hadn’t heard it in so long. 

“I like that,” she smiled shyly over at him. Peter couldn’t help but notice how nice she looked, glowing and blushing like she was, even if the heat rolling off her was making him sweat in his suit a tad.

“Good!” He said back excitedly, “it’ll be an adventure. When i first got my powers, oh my god I had so much fun. I mean it was a little crazy, for sure. But it was great. And now I can do all these things, help all these people. After we figure out what’s going on, maybe you can do that too.” 

“Oh yea?” She grinned over at him, “you going to show me the ropes of being and superhero?” She teased. 

“I mean, I totally can. Although I feel like you’re pretty surrounded by some great heroes,” Peter said, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably, “some with a lot more experience than I have.” 

Libby rolled her eyes. “Just because they’ve been doing it longer, doesn’t mean they’re better. After everything I’ve read about you in the news...I think you’re doing pretty amazingly. Though, it’s nice to now know where I recognized you from earlier. It was eating me up, not knowing!” 

“You recognized me?” Peter said, slightly nervous. If she could recognize him, who else would know? 

“Umm yea, but I’m pretty sure it’s cause Tony has a photo of you hangin down in his Lab,” Libby teased, squeezing his hand gently. “Don’t worry, your secret identity is safe with me, Peter.” She leaned towards him, resting her head on his shoulder, exhaling deeply. She was feeling much better now, much safer. 

 

Tony Stark had been watching from yards away, floating on air in his titanium suit of red and gold, studying Peter and Libby on that roof. The second he had gotten the call that Libby was in trouble, Tony had dropped everything. He was in the middle of negotiations with another company and essentially told them to fuck off and he tore out of there. As begrudgingly as he loathed to admit it, he did really love that kid. She was good people. He could still see the smoldering remains of an air conditioning unit, flowing a river of black into the sky. Her skin appeared to be glowing. And, she and Peter Parker were holding hands. That was a new, unexpected development. And when she had nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder, the boy’s arm naturally wrapping itself around her waist and resting gently on her hip, he decided he had seen enough. 

Jetting forward, he landed on the roof at a casual walk, his suit stripping away as he did so. “Ah, ah, ah, Peter, just because you’re my protege doesn’t mean you can have your hands all over my kid.” He raised his hand with the blaster still on it, mostly innocently, mostly, facing it at Peter. 

“Heeeeey, Mr Stark,” Peter said, quickly removing his arm from around Libby, rapidly standing up with lightning fast reflexes. “We’re glad you’re here. Libby needs a little help. We’re not too sure what’s going on.” 

Tony looked down at the blonde girl, then over at the exploded generator. “Well it looks like you’re packing a little more fire power than Cap ever let on.” He bent down, looking the kid in her grey eyes. “Not that that’s a problem, you’re kind of with the perfect foster parent for this situation.” 

“I’m not doing this!” Libby protested nervously. At least, not intentionally. 

“Sweetheart, you’re glowing. There’s a 100 foot radius around you that feels like a sauna. Let’s not play around here,” Tony said, brushing her blonde bangs out of her pale face. “Let’s get you home, okay?” 

Libby glanced over at Peter, then back at Tony. “Yea, okay,” she said feebly. She glanced at Peter once more, not quite sure she was ready to leave. He had saved her, twice. Pulled her right off the bleachers and away from those bullies, and calmed her down in the worst of times

As if he could read her mind, Peter quickly spoke up. “I’ll text you later, ok? We have to grab pizza and study still!” He pulled his mask out of his back and slipped it back over his head. “Catch on the flip side, Libby,” he mock saluted her, before webbing off into the city. Libby watched him leave, her eyes trailing his long web shots. 

“Alright Munchkin, lets get your glowing ass home!” Tony clapped his hands together before swooping her off of her feet, much to her protest. She was being carried through the sky, a trail of embers drifting down in her wake.


	4. Chapter 4

"So let's get this straight, one more time," Tony said, standing across from her in the Lab where she sat on top of a cool, metal table, several wires suctioned to her skin to read her vitals. "You were sitting out on the bleachers, doing some studying, and some shitheads tried to come pick on you? Then Spiderboy swung on in, carried you away, and your internal organs started heating over 400 degrees?" He put a finger to his lips, waiting for Libby's response.

Libby sighed, running her hands through her blonde hair oncemore, looking back at him. "Yes, exactly like that. I'm not sure what happened, or how. I just know that it did." She looked down at her own, trembling hands. They had stopped glowing for the time being. Her overall body temperature was dropping to a normal level. Things were seemingly okay. But they weren't, not really. Something had changed inside of her, something had been triggered. A burning fire. The readings Tony had taken on her had made her heart look like an image of a forming nebula.

Tony had seen a lot of things, but he had never seen anything like this. His first reaction was fatherly, protective. He wanted to sue the ass off the parents of those kids who were torturing this sweet thing. She had done absolutely nothing wrong. His second instinct was study, research, source information. He thought of the cellphone he kept with him at all times, in case of emergency, thought about calling Steve...but decided quickly against it. He could handle this on his own. There was no emergency yet. 

Tony glanced over at the screen where her vitals were displayed and a small image of her internal organs was rotating clockwise. Her heart had gone from a glowing ball of churning heat to just a regular, average, healthy heart beating at an appropriate amount. The rest of her body temp had cooled to a steady 98.7. Just slightly above normal, as she always was. 

“Alright Easybake Oven, we’re going to figure out what’s going on, I promise,” Tony teased, trying to lighten the mood. 

Libby looked up and him and frowned. She couldn’t imagine how things were possibly going to be okay now. She was different, other, more so than she already was. And this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you could discuss in therapy sessions. She looked back down at her lap, picking at a loose hangnail on her index finger, pulling at the skin till it ripped off. It was a terrible habit, one she was reminded of when she saw the tiny spot of blood appear. She quickly stuck the edge of her finger into her mouth. 

Tony knelt down so he was closer to her eye level. “Hey, I know it seems crazy right now. But remember, you’re living with a guy who survived shrapnel in his heart. This is nothing, sweetheart.” Hesitantly, he reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. Without a moments notice, she lurched forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Tony let out a sigh. Sometimes this whole parenting thing wasn’t honestly that bad. 

—————————————————————————————————

Libby lay in her room, wrapped up in her dense, white comforter, surrounded by pillows. She stared up at the ceiling, which had a small skylight over her bed so she could stargaze. Which was exactly what she found herself doing tonight, staring up at those stars, wondering if something inside her was made up of the same thing. If somewhere along the way, her dna had been mixed up with stardust and blackholes, and built a Milky Way inside her body.

Something about her was different, that much was sure. She held a finger up, matching it with the end of the Big Dipper and focusing hard on that last star. She thought maybe if she concentrated hard enough, she might be able to replicate that heat she had been burning with before. She stared at that index finger and waited. Was it glowing, just slightly? It was too faint to really tell if it was, or if she was just seeing things.

But she knew when she heard the light thump on the roof that she wasn’t hearing things. She stood up in bed, adjusting her lavender camisole and grabbing a soft robe from beside her bed, tying it around herself. She tiptoed over to her balcony and slid open the door, stepping outside. The night was cool and a breeze tickled against her skin, tossed her hair around her shoulders.

She leaned back against the railing and looked up, towards the small overhang where her skylight was, and waited, heart racing. She had a feeling she knew who was up there. While deep in her heart, she wished it was her dad, she knew it wasn’t. But when she saw a red mask with large, white eyes peek over the roof, she knew her hunch had been right. Peter had come to visit. 

“You scared me,” she said dryly, sitting down on a patio chair and rest her head in her hand, hiding a smile in her palm. “How’s it hanging, Peter?” 

She could see him grin from behind the mask as he hung himself upside down by a web, spinning lazily in a circle. “Oh it’s pretty alright, I’d say,” he replied, before flipping and landing on his feet, leaning back on a chair next to her. “I just, you know, had to double check that you were alright. Things got a little crazy today.” 

“That’s the understatement of the year,” she said flatly, looking out at the city skyline, before glancing back over at him. While she had been looking away, he had pushed his mask up to reveal his face. “I’m doing okay, I think. All things considered.” 

Peter couldn’t help but grin. “Good, good. I mean, you know, not _good_ , cause we don’t know what’s going on. But I’m glad you’re doing better. I get it, stuff like this can get pretty weird.” 

“Yea but at least what you can do is cool. I’m just about as useful as an overheating car on the interstate. Going nowhere fast.” Libby sighed, plucking at another hangnail. 

“I mean, you don’t know that for sure,” Peter probed. “You just have to learn how to use your powers. I have a feeling you’re going to be stronger than me,” he teased her, wanting to see her smile. 

It worked, she couldn’t help but crack a grin. Having him around made her feel more comfortable, more like she could handle being in her own skin, even if her insides had drastically changed. “We’ll see about that, I’m no Avenger,” she replied. 

“Hey so,” Peter said suddenly, sitting up straight as if he had just had an idea. “Want to see somewhere cool?” 

“Somewhere?” Libby asked, looking down at her pajamas. “I’m not really dressed for going out,” she said sheepishly, tugging at the tie on her robe and dropping the strings. “People will think I’m nuts.” 

“Oh, no, no it won’t be anywhere with people,” Peter explained. “Just you and me, nothing to worry about, no one to see your bathrobe.” He grinned at her in the moonlight, the pale glow shining on his face. 

He looked so eager and earnest that Libby couldn’t rightly tell him no. And in all honesty, even if she could say no, she didn’t want to. It wasn’t often in her life that Libby felt herself rebeling. She had never snuck out of the house before...she was almost positive Tony would be alerted in some way or another. Yet, part of her was feeling daring, feeling like saying ‘fuck it’ to the rules and diving off to wherever she pleased. 

“Alright Bugboy, lets do it,” she smiled at him, standing up from her chair. Before she could even move, he had scooped her up in his arms and they were swinging off through the city.


End file.
